The Aftermath
by YouThinkThisHappensEveryday
Summary: How do you cope when you've been to hell and back?
1. The Morning After

It was very warm. Too warm to be comfortable. A sticky heat that forced me to open my eyes much sooner than I would have wanted.

My sleep had been dreamless, the best night's sleep I had gotten in a long time. Apparently Madam Pomfrey had a vast stock of dreamless sleep potions in the Hospital Wing, there had been a huge demand for the majority of the students over the past year. A lot of nightmares had needed to be prevented. I had to find myself thankful for this, as it meant there was enough to go round for all the survivors of the final battle.

I had survived. Harry had survived. _Ron _had survived. It was more than I had allowed myself to hope for during the last year, it had seemed impossible to me that we all would make it.

But we didn't all make it. There were many fallen heroes in Hogwarts tonight.

I stopped this thought dead in its tracks, no matter the nightmares I had faced both in reality and in dreams, I did not have enough courage to face the facts right now.

I had still not moved since waking. I lay facing upwards towards the bed's canopy that was glistening a violent red in the sunlight. But the heat of the sun that had woken me was now becoming painful to my already burnt skin. But if I got up this would be a step closer to confronting the damage, maybe I could lie down just a little bit longer.

I turned my head to survey the rest of the room. I was in the boy's dormitory, but its appearance was completely different to what it would have been this time yesterday. There had been no spell damage done to GriffindorTower, and to step into it yesterday and to see it exactly as I had remembered had been like entering a safe haven after the storm. The only question on all of our minds when we stepped through the portrait hole was where were we going to sleep? None of us wanted to be separated, so I agreed to sleep with Harry and Ron up in the boy's dormitory. As soon as we walked through the door we heard a small pop and saw the room had expanded itself and a new bed had been magically added. Seamus, Dean and Neville were already there, they gave us a smile and a nod when we entered, but then continued getting ready for bed.

Apparently there seemed to be a feeling of safety in numbers as we were soon joined by Ginny accompanied by Luna, who explained the Fat Lady had made no objection to a Ravenclaw entering the tower today. Then, shortly after, came Parvati with her sister Padma, who also could not bear to be separated. Each time the room grew bigger and provided another bed for each occupant.

At the sight of the twins I noticed Ron clearly flinch, but without another word, without getting changed or even washing the blood and grime from ourselves, we all drank our dreamless sleep potions and welcomed the oblivion until morning.

I quickly scanned all the beds now and saw that no one had yet left the room, and it appeared to me that I was the only one visibly awake. The heat of the sun was now too much for my skin, it was time to get up whether I liked it or not. I gingerly got out of bed, but as soon as I put some weight on my left leg I stumbled, a sharp pain in my knee making me gasp and clutch the bed frame for support.

This disturbance wakes Ron, but no one else in the room stirs. I see his eyes blinking open, and that brilliant blue soothes me, if only for a moment.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hi," I quietly respond.

There is nothing else to say, there is no combination of words to convey our emotions, nor any phrase that would alleviate our pain or express the happiness that both of us made it. Every word in the English language is insignificant to what we are feeling.

I hate myself for waking him up, he was safe and protected from his thoughts while in the velvety soft blackness of the dreamless sleep.

We continue to stare at each other for an immeasurable amount of time, each breath we take a valuable gift, each heartbeat a priceless privilege.

"You okay?" I ask. Then immediately regret it. Of course he isn't. None of us are. Stupid, stupid girl.

"Yeah, I think I need a glass of water though." His voice is husky I can tell from the long time spent sleeping, and he rises gracefully and crosses to the other side of the room where a jug of water and a few glasses lay waiting, untouched throughout the night.

I study him, he is in no obvious pain physically that I can see, apart from a few burns and scratches he appears largely unharmed. And I feel a wave of absolute relief that he made it, and I almost feel ashamed of myself for feeling this selfish joy.

Ron is taking a long drink of water and looking out the window to the grounds, so he is not able to see me, and by the time he has finished and turned to face me I have swallowed my elation and my grief, he doesn't need to see this. I can deal with this later.

He takes a step towards me, but then pauses again, unsure of how to proceed. But then Neville starts to stir and before long the whole room is awake, quietly talking and gently moving to shyly ease themselves into this unfamiliar world.

I am still clinging on to the bed post as my life raft, but I'm not sure whether I can trust my knee yet to take my weight so I sit back down. Harry sits himself at the end of his bed facing me and then Ron joins us and sits next to Harry. The silence between us is actually comfortable, we understand each other and we sit and wait.

Ginny is the first to leave the room, saying she is going to go find her mum. She shares a look with Harry and then gives me and Ron a sad smile before she goes. Slowly the room empties, until it is just me, Ron and Harry left.

Harry gives a great sigh, and then murmurs "Kreacher." With an instantaneous pop the house elf appears, bearing the first real smile I have seen all day on his face.

"Could you get us some sandwiches and juice please Kreacher, and bring them up here for us if you could?"

"Certainly Master," Kreacher replies and before I even have time to object he has Disapparated.

"Harry! He could have been resting! Don't you think he did enough last night to deserve some time to himself?" This feels good, but unusual. This is what Hermione would do. The regular Hermione. Maybe this is what we are supposed to do, just act like we used to until it feels right to do it. There has to be a point when all this will feel normal again.

"Come on, Hermione, you can't deny he looked happy to be helping us." And I couldn't, so we continued to sit in our comfortable silence. And when Kreacher came with the food we ate them together in the stillness. And when the time felt right, we all wordlessly agreed it was time for us to go downstairs.


	2. Three Days Later

The Burrow has been much too quiet. It is unsettling, and everyone moves through the house like we are the ghosts our minds are constantly haunted by.

Mrs Weasley has been too upset to do anything since we arrived. Apart when we first arrived and she went to go make everyone a cup of tea. The kettle hadn't even boiled before she dissolved into heart wrenching sobs in the kitchen. Mr Weasley held her before gently coaxing her to come upstairs with him, all the while tears fell silently down his cheeks. I counted how many cups Mrs Weasley had taken out for tea, which totalled ten. There were only nine of us in the house, and I knew she had accidentally taken one out for Fred.

After that I tried my best to care for everyone. The routine of cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner along with keeping the house reasonably clean was familiar and grounding, the motions helping me keep myself sane.

Most of the Weasleys kept themselves to their rooms over the past week. Ron, however, would spend him time with me and Harry. We still did not like to be separated, the only times we did were when Harry would go to try and comfort Ginny or when we went to bed.

Harry and Ron were currently sitting at the kitchen table behind me, chatting quietly. Their conversation felt slightly forced, as did any topic of conversation we had that wasn't about the war, but I knew they too were trying to get themselves back into reality.

I dry my last plate and then sit down next to Ron. He grabs my hand and squeezes gently. He does these small gestures regularly now, but each time they are a surprise, I would never have suspected Ron to be the sort of boy to so casually and comfortably show his affections. When he does these gestures it gives me hope, that amidst all our grief Ron could still give me butterflies.

It is after dinner, and the usual routine is for Harry to go see Ginny, while Ron and I go to his room.

Harry sighs and I expect him to say he is going upstairs, but what comes next surprises me.

"I just want you two to know, I owe you my life, many times over. I wouldn't have made it this year without you, I wouldn't have even made it past first year. You are my best friends, and I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Harry, you don't need to…" I begin, but he interrupts me.

"Yes, I do, I just wanted you two to know how I felt." And with that he stands and leaves the room, and I hear his gentle tread going up the stairs. Harry has never been one for expressing his feelings, but I had always been aware of the gratitude he felt to us even though he owed us no thanks. But I am still touched by his small speech.

Ron, still holding my hand then leads me out the kitchen and to his room. I know what's coming, it has been part of the daily routine since we arrived. This is my worst part of the day, even worse than the nightmares that plague my dreams. Ron has tried to be so strong, but he can't hold it in forever, and it is only when we are alone that he sheds his tears.

The first evening was the most awful, and I held him in my arms as sobs racked his entire body.

We have reached his room, and he turns to me, tears already shining in his eyes. But this time they don't fall, instead he grasps my face in his hands and kisses me roughly.

I was not anticipating this, all our previous kisses, apart from the one we shared in the Room of Requirement, have been shy and tentative. They have been sweet and cautious as we break the barriers of our friendship into something new.

But now Ron kisses me with uncontrolled passion, his hands have now left my face and one is lightly gripping my hair at the base of my neck while the other hooks round the small of my back and pulls me closer. I respond just as eagerly, one of my arms wrapped across his shoulder blades and then my other hand slides round his waist and slips into his backside pocket which I use to pull him nearer and reduce the distance between us even more.

Ron slowly leads us over to the bed, not once leaving my lips to see where he is going. He gently lowers me down before resting his body softly on top of mine. His kisses are slower now, more tender and loving again. His lips occasionally leave mine, but only to trail light caresses down my neck. One of my hands is on his head, my fingers wrapped in his soft red hair, and the other is holding on to his broad back, pulling him closer to me ever still.

And as abruptly as the kiss began, Ron stops. He lays his head on my chest and sighs deeply.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he says, "it's going so fast."

"I'm not surprised, I was just in the middle of quite a passionate kiss with my boyfriend."

"I've been wanting to do that all day, but it didn't really seem appropriate to just pounce on you in front of Harry, sorry if it was a bit unexpected."

"No, no, I'm not complaining."

Ron then looks up at me and gives me the most heart stopping smile. His eyes light up as he beams at me, and I can tell he's rather pleased with himself by the breathlessness of my replies.

It has been too long since I have seen him like this, and just the sight of his special, genuine smile lets me know that everything is going to be alright.

He continues to lie on me while I draw senseless patterns on his back. His breathing is deep and slow and I wonder if he has fallen asleep. I can see the sun beginning to set through the window, causing the room to be set in a golden haze.

"Thank you for everything, Hermione. Without you my family would have fallen apart these last couple of days. You've been incredible, and I can't even begin to explain how you have helped me," Ron suddenly speaks through the silence and his voice is choked up with emotion, I don't need to look down to know his eyes will have welled up with tears again.

"There is nowhere else I would rather be right now, you don't need to thank me," I tell him.

"You've been so strong for everyone, especially me, have you even cried yet?"

"No, I haven't."

I know he doesn't mean it as an insult but it somehow hits me like one. I know to him crying is a sign of weakness, so the fact I haven't will be a mark of bravery and courage in his eyes. And I have wondered to myself why I haven't cried, usually the slightest thing would set me off, and now I have been to hell and back the tears won't come. I told myself as we left Griffindor tower on the morning after the final battle that it wasn't the time yet to give in to my grief, there were more important things to do and more important people to take care of. But days later and I'm still numb, and most of the time I feel like an empty broken shell of the Hermione I once was.

"I asked Ginny to keep an eye on you at night, she says she can hear you mumbling and shouting out in your dreams, and when you aren't doing that she says you just toss and turn for hours so she knows you're not sleeping well."

"Well if Ginny knows all that then it's obvious she's not sleeping well either, which isn't surprising for any of us." This comes out slightly sharper than I would have meant it, but I don't want Ron exploring my mind to see how I'm feeling, because I'm scared of opening up what's inside.

"I know, but I'm worried about you," he says with concern evident in his voice, "you spend so much time looking after the rest of us that there's none left to look after yourself."

"You don't need to worry about me, I'm fine." And that ends the conversation, I can tell there is more Ron wants to say but he is scared to push me. And there are things I want to admit but I'm scared I won't be able to put myself back together again if I were to pull down the walls I had so shakily built up.

So we lay together, in silence, in the growing darkness, as the sun goes down.


	3. One Week Later

Everyone is trying to get back to normal, or as normal as can be expected in these circumstances.

Mrs Weasley has fully taken over the housework again, the chores keeping her mind busy. I know she finds the distraction comforting, so I try not to mind that there is no work left for me to do, nothing now to keep my mind occupied.

The rest of the Weasleys no longer shut themselves in their rooms during the day, getting on with their everyday lives as best they can.

Mrs Weasley is cleaning the kitchen after dinner, with 9 people to feed this can be quite a messy affair.

Mr Weasley is in his shed tinkering with a television and DVD player, telling us that Muggles have found a way to make stories that come alive on screen.

The rest of the Weasleys and Harry have gone to play a quick game of Quidditch in the late evening sunshine.

Ron asked whether I wanted to come and play, but all I had to do was raise one eyebrow and he knew he would not be getting me on a broomstick today. I said I wanted to go and read a book and he looked almost hurt, but we had to get used to the idea of being separate sooner or later. I walked outside with him and he gave me a kiss that was over much too quickly, then shouldered his broomstick and slowly strolled away to the field where his siblings and Harry were already setting up the match.

I watched him walk, the summer evening air pleasant and cooling. It was only a week after the battle, and it felt almost disrespectful to the dead that we just get on with our lives as if nothing had happened. It was George who convinced us we needed to try and start living again, he said he doubted that his brother and everyone else who gave their lives would want us to waste what we had been given. And he was right, but the truth was none of us knew really what to do.

So we slipped back into our old stereotypes, going through the motions, existing rather than living but it was a step nonetheless. Mrs Weasley cooked and cleaned. Mr Weasley played with Muggle toys. Everyone else played Quidditch. I read.

Except I didn't want to read right now, none of what I read was sinking in and I hadn't actually got any further in the book since this morning, my mind drifting away rather than paying attention to the words on the page.

I decided I needed a bath, it seemed like a good time anyway with the house being mostly empty I wouldn't run the risk of getting in anyone's way that needed the bathroom.

I had only had showers so far since we had returned to the Burrow, not really having the time to waste by having a long soak.

I gathered the things I would need in the bath and then began filling the tub. While waiting for the water level to rise I studied myself in the mirror. I had done my best to avoid looking at myself so far this week but you can't hide forever.

I looked a mess. I was still too skinny after the long year on basic rations and many nights with not enough to eat. My skin was covered in bruises and scratches and scars, hardly any of my skin remained unmarked. Despite the week since the battle, many of my bruises were still a dark purple, but were beginning to get that sickly yellow green edge that showed the healing was beginning. I still had the cut on my throat, but it was now a light pink, a reminder of Bellatrix.

The bath was now full, deep enough for me to hide myself in. I stepped in and the water was luxuriously hot, and as I sat down I felt the heat warm my entire body to the core. I just lay there for a while, enjoying the comfort. I hadn't even noticed how tense my muscles were, and in the warm water I felt myself relax properly for the first time in months. We were safe now, we didn't need to worry about death being seconds away, taken away with a burst of green light. We didn't have to worry that our friends and family would be stolen away from us, never to be seen again. We had the whole of our lives ahead of us, and we could do whatever we wanted, love whoever we chose without the fear we could lose them.

And it was with these thoughts, these peaceful, joyful thoughts that finally bring the tears to my eyes. An ache builds in my chest that makes it difficult to breathe. I sit up and pull my legs against my chest, my arms wrapped tight around my shins to hold myself together.

My whole body shakes with the sobs, and now I've started I just can't stop.

The faces of everyone we lost, the explosion that takes Fred's life, Ron screaming my name in Malfoy Manor, Harry being carried in Hagrid's arms from the Forbidden Forest, Ron Disapperating in the heavy rain, the snake lunges and misses by the short distance I have been able to move in a heartbeat, Ron splinched and bleeding in my arms, Greyback's putrid breath hot on my neck, Ron's hopeless eyes as he is dragged away from me to the basement, Bellatrix standing over me, pointing her wand and about to say the incantation that will make me wish for my own death to escape from the excruciating pain.

These memories play in constant loop in front of my eyes, the sights and sounds and smells as real to me now as they were then. And I can't hide from them now, they have escaped from the box I had them locked in and I can't shut them back up again.

"Hermione, are you okay? Mum says you've been in there a while." Ron shouts through the door.

I've lost track of time, its dark outside now and the water in the bath has gone cold. I'm shivering. And still crying. But now the tears are more like the silent heavy sort, they track down my cheeks without me having to gasp for air.

"Yeah, yeah, just a minute," I call back. My voice sounds weak and pathetic and I despise myself even more. He doesn't reply so I hope he's gone now.

I get out of the bath and wrap myself in my towel, rubbing my skin vigorously to try and generate some heat through friction. I quickly get into my pyjamas that I had brought in with me.

I wave my wand and clean the bath and tidy up any mess I had left.

I open the door, and Ron is standing against the opposite wall, leaning casually with his arms folded across his chest. His face is pointed down but he looks up at me from under his lashes, his hair falling into his eyes.

And I break down once again with the shuddering tears that consume my entire body.

Through my blurred vision I see Ron rush towards me and then I am encased in a hug that seems to push the pieces of my sanity closer together.

He half carries me to his room, and then just lies with me on the bed, constantly whispering to me things that aren't really registering in my mind but are soothing nonetheless.

My eyes are against the smooth curve where his neck turns to his shoulder, my hands are against his chest wrapped up tight in his embrace. His arms envelop me, warm, peaceful and so strong.

He holds me until the tears dry out and my sobs quieten to nothing.


	4. One Month Later

I am standing in the back garden of the Burrow. It is morning, just after the dawn. I like to get up this early sometimes, just to see the world waking up. The sky is a clear, crystal blue. There is a crispness to the air despite the fact it is the middle of summer, the early hour causing the slight chill around me.

I love how the world feels just following the sunrise. Along with the period just proceeding the sunset they make up my favourite times of the day. There is such a stillness and calm about everything, and I feel like the whole world is muted as it goes through that hazy phase between sleeping and stirring.

I stay out here a while, sitting on the grass and just enjoy this feeling. The sun begins to rise higher in the sky, creeping over the trees so the rays fall on my body and causes the shadows in the garden to shorten.

Ron and Harry wander out after some time, and join me on the lawn. We have gone through the worst now. All the funerals are over, and we also had a memorial that honoured all the losses and sacrifices that had been made since Voldemort rose to power the first time, now we could finally let those stories come to rest.

Now it was time for the rebuilding of our world, the new era. We would never forget, but it was time for us to move on.

"Do you two want to come mind Teddy with me this afternoon? Andromeda needs a bit of time off so I said I would go round," Harry asks us, the only noise for a while apart for the light singing of birds in the trees. Harry often looks after Teddy and already there is a special bond between the two, and an unquestionable love in Harry's eyes when he talks about him.

I nod that I would like to come and Ron answers, "Yeah, that'd be nice, I love babies."

This is the first I have ever heard about this, and an image comes into my head of Ron rocking a little baby in his arms in a light yellow nursery next to a white cot. He is singing gently to what I know is our child. Its not the sweetest sound in the world seems to be working as the baby is fast asleep.

I never really imagined myself with children, in truth I've never really wanted them, but if they are Ron's kids then maybe one day.

Me and Ron have seen Teddy just once before, but it was at Remus and Tonk's funeral so none of us were really in a fit state to coo over a baby, but I did notice he certainly was a beautiful little boy. The truly beautiful thing about him though is that he was a new life, a symbol of the birth of the new age we were all being brought into. Certainly his short life had already been touched by the hands of war, but there would be no doubt he would be surrounded by people who love him. And when the time comes when he will ask about what happened to his parents he will be told that they were heroes, and that thanks to them and people like them the world he grew up in was safe.

Lost in my thoughts I haven't been keeping track of the conversation going on between Ron and Harry. They are both laughing at something Ron has said, and not the forced laughter we grown accustomed to in the last few weeks, but truly laughing. Harry is doing some sort of laugh/snort hybrid which is making both him and Ron laugh even harder. Ron turns to me with his startling blue eyes shining and I don't think I could actually love him more.

I realise I am happy. Not simply surviving, not just coping. I'm happy. I know there is still a lot left to deal with following the war, plenty more tears still to come. But as I listen to Ron and Harry's laughter I think it's all going to be okay.


End file.
